Words of Wisdom
by Kipsels
Summary: Takes place at the end of PW: Ace Attorney. Edgeworth finds himself troubled emotionally,but a meeting with a young intern who's changing their whole life gives him the push he needs to make an important decision. Edgeworth OneShot.


Edgeworth was never interested in work parties. But, for the interest of keeping good work relationships, he attended. Most of the time. He felt somewhat irritated, standing by the wall, watching people bustling around, nibbling on little titbits and involving themselves in idle chitchat. The sooner he could be out of there, the better.

From what he understood, one of the young interns had decided to make a radical change in occupation, and was leaving the district's prosecutors office forever. So, they were holding a going away party for her. Usually, someone who hadn't been around that long wouldn't have received a party of such grandeur.

But this was a final plea being made. The girl was a shining star, with the brightest future in the business. She was a diligent, hard worker, and in the few court cases she had worked, she had come out a winner. The district's office couldn't afford to lose someone so valuable, so they seemed that in throwing a large party, they would change her mind.

Edgeworth couldn't even remember who _'she' _was. He just remembered the senior prosecutors raving about this prodigy constantly. Prodigy. He scowled at the word. That's exactly what he had been called, years earlier. This girl was being treated just as he had been, nurtured from the beginning. But she bowed out, not one year into the job.

He probably should have found out more about the woman before he came. But then, he had no motivation to come along anyway. He was forced to.

There was too much playing on his mind at the time. He found himself in a downward spiral, unable to discern where he was meant to lead his life. Where was he meant to head? Why couldn't he just work the way he had before? He loved his job…

Phoenix Wright had changed him. The idiotic man who'd turned his whole life in another direction just to save an old friend from where he'd been heading. He'd made Edgeworth think. He started to make Edgeworth reconsider every action he had taken, and every action he would take. All because of…Justice. And Wright was doing it all to help him.

He couldn't comprehend it. Perhaps that's why there was a letter of resignation sitting on his desk at that very moment.

A tap on the shoulder, a smiling face. Edgeworth was shook from his thoughts, greeted by a young attractive woman. She was short, standing a little over five foot, only mildly shrouded under the illusion of the heels she wore. Her long black hair was choppy, falling over her shoulders and framing her pretty, almost seductive face. Her brown eyes stood out through her long lashes, matching the brilliance of her red lipstick. Though, the expression on her face seemed to be making a futile attempt at a mask, hiding away her natural, almost enchanting look. She herself was dressed smartly in black, with a satin blouse and pencil skirt. She was dressed for a funeral.

"Thank you for coming, Mr Edgeworth. I didn't think you could make it." Wait, who was this then? Almost immediately understanding, the woman laughed softly and shook her head. "My name is Samara Fernando. I'm the intern who's leaving." She explained, her voice almost as seductive as her features, if it wasn't for the colloquial twang from usage of too many slang words that had ruined it.

"Ah. Miss Fernando." Edgeworth muttered, giving a curt little nod. He remembered that name. Senior workers blathered it constantly, these days. He'd heard a few things that belonged to her name too, but he hadn't really taken much notice of any of it. She grew up in the Congo with missionary parents, and was sent to a boarding school at fifteen. That's all he remembered, probably because it sounded completely bizarre.

"I wish we had had the time to have gotten to know each other better. I would have liked to have known what was going on in that head of yours. You are known to be quite the intellectual." She said, obviously playing to her strengths through flattery.

He played along with it.

"It would have been a pleasure, I'm sure. With such a bright future ahead of you, it's a surprise to hear about your abrupt choice in career change." He answered, using what little knowledge he had of her to his advantage.

She laughed again, her eyes falling to the floor. Something he had said must have gone and changed the woman's whole demeanour. The air seemed to fill with sadness and insecurity. When she looked up again, she smiled at him, sadly. "Thank you…"

He didn't want to deal with this. He wasn't there to be a shoulder to lean on for the weak at heart. He was there to do his work, no matter how uncertain he himself felt about it now.

"Life doesn't have a set path for us. I've just decided to go down the other way in the forked road." She mused softly, the look on her face made it seem like she was almost on the verge of reconsidering.

The lighting in the room dimmed, and people shuffled away from the centre of the room. The office had rented out an elaborate hall for the party, and the way it had been planned out felt much more like a wedding reception than a worker's farewell. It was all a part of the plan. To convince Miss Fernando that life was far more lavish on this side of the street. It just hadn't worked.

She looked up at him expectantly as the atmosphere changed, and the slow music started to play. People began to partner up for a strictly professional dance. "Would you mind joining me, Mr Edgeworth?"

Didn't she have anything better to do? Sighing, he obliged, courteously taking her small hand in his and leading her out to the middle of the room.

The major height difference between the two of them made it difficult to manoeuvre, but he compromised, making his steps smaller as she made hers a little bit bigger. He had his head held up, barely even taking notice of Miss Fernando. He had too much rattling his mind.

"People think I'm leaving because of my broken engagement. They're wrong though. It had nothing to do with it."

There she was again, spilling a little bit of her past and her emotion onto him, awaiting him to reply. Of course, that needed him to think once again, about what he knew of the woman.

Ah, that's right. Apparently she was romantically involved with a senior prosecutor in his early thirties. He wasn't the best in the business, but he was still well recognised. They were set to get married some time in the near future, but they both mutually agreed it wouldn't work out. Something like that, anyway. Edgeworth wasn't into the whole office gossip thing.

"What was it, then?"

The young woman sighed, looking up at him and admiring his sharp jaw line. "I don't really know. It just doesn't feel…right anymore. Nothing does." Those words played to his own song. What she was going through seemed to be exactly what he was being tormented by. Only, he doubted that was really the truth.

"What are you planning on doing now?" He asked, being polite.

"Oh. As odd as it sounds, I plan on opening up my own little bar. British style." She laughed, she must have known it would have sounded like a preposterous idea to him. The song ended, she took a step back and removed her hands from his body. The night was nearing a close, and she knew that. So looking behind her for a moment, she smiled. "I best go and say my final goodbyes, then. It was nice finally getting to chat with you, Mr Edgeworth."

"I wish you luck in your future endeavours, Miss Fernando." He muttered, quick to say goodbye.

She waved a hand at him, shaking her head. "Please, call me Samara. I hate the formalities." As she started to walk off, he stood there, contemplating what had just happened. The night went on from there, and from what he could see, many of the senior prosecutors, and even the deputy of police, were still trying to get her to reconsider. But, somehow, Edgeworth knew she wouldn't. There was uncertainty in her voice, but she was still set in knowing she didn't want to prosecute for the rest of her life. A perfect record wasn't everything.

**XXXXXX**

Edgeworth walked out of the main entrance of the hired out city building, walking down along the street. He had his head hung low, hands tucked into the pockets of his magenta pants. He was still plagued with insecurity. Nothing could ever change how he worked. He worked to be perfect, to work methodically and without error. But Phoenix Wright had ruined it. Once again, his mind came to the conclusion that Mr Wright was the source of all his issues. There was something about the lawyer that had rubbed off on him, and Edgeworth didn't want anything to do with it. But it was too late. The old time friend had done his work, changing the very structure that Edgeworth had built himself on. Edgeworth had tried to end it all there, to make sure he never saw that lawyer again. But…then he got caught up in that trial… the one that Wright saved him.

The way a man could show love and compassion for almost anyone startled him, and he certainly didn't want Wright's sympathy. Something had to change. Soon.

"Mr Edgeworth?" Samara's voice game from behind him. For a second, he considered ignoring her and to just continue walking. But, she'd probably just run up to him again. He turned on his heel and gave her a weary smile. "Samara, call me Miles." He never said that to anyone. But he was never going to see her again, so what was the harm?

"Are you doing anything now? Or are you just planning to go home?"

He planned on working throughout the night to keep himself from thinking about stupid things, like Wright. "No, I'm going home." Lie.

"Well…How about you join me for dinner, then? I'd really appreciate it. Of course, you have your obligations to say no." She was swathed in a fur rimmed coat, black, just like the rest of her clothes. Her legs seemed to be rather cold though. Edgeworth hadn't even noticed the temperature until now.

"No, I'd love to. Do you have a place in mind?" It was an impulse, but he had a feeling that she had far more to tell him. Far more things that could help him. And he didn't even understand why he felt like this. Perhaps he just found himself being entranced by her good looks. But that wasn't like him at all.

"Lovely!" She clapped her hands and bustled over, running as fast as she could on heels. "No, not really. I know a nice little café that's just down the street. They cook a nice steak sandwich." Interesting, a woman who actually ate and managed to keep her figure.

"Sounds perfect." He held out his arm to her like a gentleman, and she linked hers through without a second thought. They walked down in silence, and Edgeworth noticed that Samara seemed to be watched the city life with mild interest. "You don't spend much time in the city?" He queried, watching her expression as she glanced up at him.

"Oh, no. I've lived in the city for the past four years. It's just… I feel that everyone get's caught up in the fast life. They don't seem to take the time to look around them and appreciate what they've got." This girl seemed to be full of words of wisdom. He kind of admired it. But he'd never let her know.

"You're so young, and yet you seem to have an opinion on just about every aspect on a person's life." He said, chuckling softly.

She smirked, her eyes growing dark. "I've had far more experience in life than the average twenty-two year old. Most people dismiss me for a naïve know-it-all. But there's far more to it than that. Personally, I think they're afraid I'll prove that I've lived more than they have, despite my tender age." There she went again.

"Opinionated little girl." He muttered, making her laugh. She pointed out the lights of a little corner shop, and quickly led him in. She ordered them both coffee and they sat down in a booth beside the window.

Edgeworth sighed, wishing he had taken the tea instead. "Are you happy with your choice?" He asked, glancing at her through wisps of his brown-gray hair. She smiled at him, taking a sip. "Yes, I am. Why do you ask?"

"It's just… your choice seems a little rash. You find yourself in a high paying job. And you're throwing it all away to…own a bar?"

She laughed, nodding softly in agreement. "You're right. But there's far more to it than just the thrill of uncertainty that comes with rash decisions like these."

Samara had gotten his attention. "So, you have a real reason then?"

She nodded once again. "I do." She was a tease, this one. She liked to play with peoples minds, leave them hanging. For a second, he thought she'd make a great bar tender. Noticing his expression at her short answer, she continued, "When I was fifteen, I was caught up in a terrible ordeal. I was kidnapped, tortured and… well, you don't need to know it all. But, ever since I got home safely I knew I wanted to fight criminals for a living. I was too short to join the police force… So I became a prosecutor."

Edgeworth raised a brow, now thoroughly confused. "Then, why are you leaving?"

She sighed, her hands wrapped around her mug. "The guilt got to me. When I first started, I didn't care whether the person on trial was innocent. I just wanted to win. For my own sake, and no one else's. To… quench my thirst. But, then, when I had… sent a man to prison, it hit me. This man was obviously innocent, and yet I had him charged. He had a wife and kids… It was then, I realised I couldn't do it anymore." She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I'll always love being a prosecutor. And in twenty years time I'll probably regret my decision. But it's not something I can live with. It isn't me."

Something in those words rang true for Edgeworth, and he found himself staring at the woman intensely, unnerving her a bit. A conscience, is that what he had recently acquired? The need to do justice, but not only to win, but to get the right verdict?

"I wish that I had seen that sooner than I did."

Samara looked at him, her dark eyes searching his. It seemed like she didn't believe his words. Or couldn't. Suddenly her words became harsh.

"Prosecutors do not see anything. They work to get what they want. Mr Edgeworth, I'm sorry if I may sound rude in saying this, but I can't believe you. By saying that, you're forcing me to believe that you chose a path you never wanted to follow." All this talk about life's path and the right road to take was irritating him. He scowled at her for a second.

It was gone in an instant, and his sullen, over exhausted face fell for a moment. "You're quick to judge, Miss Fernando. You don't even know me."

"I know what you're like. I know what drives your entire being. I know what you're waiting for when you wake up in the morning. And I know that was something I used to want. But not anymore." She raised a brow curiously, "Isn't that enough?"

"No, it isn't." He found himself getting rather annoyed with the young woman. She was acting as if they were all just a bunch of filthy rats, looking out only for themselves. She was just being naïve. She didn't know anything about him or his past, or what drove him into being who he was. "I wanted to be a defence lawyer, just like my father, and help people. But he was killed when I was a child. Everything changed."

Her eyes widened for a moment, before returning to their sultry haze. "I'm sorry…Mr Edgeworth. I didn't know."

"Miles." He repeated once again.

"Miles… Your life has been just as unforgiving as mine has."

He frowned at her, and took the first sip of his coffee for the night. It was already going cold.

"My life is far from dandy. Ever since…well, I lost my youth. I lost myself." Edgeworth could hardly understand what she was on about, but he could tell that there was far more to her words than just a comment on 'growing up'.

However, she didn't continue, and he could tell that no amount of bugging would get her to talk. It was obvious that she was still troubled daily by whatever she was thinking about.

Edgeworth leaned forward, resting his cheek against his hand, watching her carefully with his silver coloured eyes. "Tell me more about your engagement."

She laughed softly, and shook her head. "There isn't much to tell. I fell in love with a man 10 years my senior. He seemed to like me back, and eventually…proposed. Being the young idiot I am, I didn't see the insincerity in his eyes. He was already with another woman. I was just a toy used to get her back." Samara looked over at him and smirked. "It's not the kind of thing a woman likes to talk about, you know?"

He could see behind the humour that there was a hint of sadness, but it wasn't as much as one might expect. "So you don't hold anything against him?"

"Oh, no, of course not. He's happy now, and I'm happy I'm not stuck in a life long relationship. Just doesn't suit me." She looked down into her cup, a hint of a darker truth edging its way into her eyes. "Too many beautiful men out there to seduce. And too many good bottles of scotch left out with no body to drink them."

She sounded like an alcoholic. No wonder she wanted to start a bar. "I suppose you're right… At least it doesn't affect your working relationship." She laughed, leaning over to pat him on the shoulder playfully.

"Dear me. Always worrying about work, aren't ya? It doesn't matter now anyway, because I'm out on my own. No more boss to report to." He smiled at her, finding her charismatic personality to be quite warming. She had something to laugh about even in the darkest of matters, no matter how cynical of a laugh it was.

Suddenly she stood, holding out her hand to him. He raised a brow at her, but took it none the less. "Come on, I want to show you something."

**XXXXXX**

Standing up against the railings, the night's wind ruffling the edges of her skirt, Samara looked out onto the city lights, a smile painting her pretty face with a look of delight. "Now you know where I used to live. One day, I'm stalking you home and crashing your poshy apartment."

Edgeworth laughed, looking from the night sky, to the skyscrapers sparkling windows. "It isn't that posh." He would be lying, because it was rather lavish, even if he didn't spend very much time in it. "What do you mean by, used to live?"

"I passed in the keys to my apartment this morning. I'm going to live in the quaint little room above my bar now." She mused, tucking a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear. "I'll miss coming up here though. It's always been the perfect place to get away from it all, especially to think." By the way she said it, he assumed that she'd done that plenty of times in the past.

"Something's on your mind. I can tell." She said quietly, turning around to face the young man with the tired, worn face.

Edgeworth would have preferred to have just said nothing, and let it continue to rot away in his head. But he knew she'd pull it out of him, one way or another. "A friend of mine has just run his way right through my life. And nothing seems to be set in stone anymore."

"Phoenix Wright."

"What?" Edgeworth stared at her, shocked. How did she know the name?

She laughed, amused by his reaction. "I've heard his name around. And I know there is some connection between the two of you. So I took a stab at it. I guess I was right then?"

He rolled his eyes at her, making her giggle even more. "I try telling you something deep and meaningful, and this is what I get?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Continue." Funnily enough, Edgeworth found himself explaining all of his issues to the girl he hardly knew. Hours passed, and Samara was still listening as intently as she had the moment he started. The both of them knew it was an odd occurrence for him to just talk about his problems, because he was a man who preferred to fix things himself or keep it bottled up inside. Even now, he felt like an idiot for telling her all these things. They had moved to a sitting position on the ground, Samara's body tucked up into a ball, and Edgeworth's back propped up against the building's railing.

"I think… You need to take the time to get a good look at yourself. Obviously, there is something you need to change."

He scoffed at her, he knew that much. She glared right back at him. "Well, I was trying to help."

"I don't need help from a naïve girl who makes the stupidest decisions."

She rolled her eyes, finding the sudden change in emotion hard to handle. "Sometimes, exaggeration is good. It sets you on the right path. Because even if you end up going the wrong way, you can call yourself stupid and head right back the way you came."

"Can you please stop talking about life's path?" He huffed, now thoroughly ticked off. She smiled, and got to her feet.

"I think it's time we both left. There's nothing more that we can share." Edgeworth stood himself, and they both headed back down to the entrance of the building. They walked together in silence, even though they should have parted ways two blocked ago. Something about her company warmed his cold heart. Even when they weren't talking, he felt he could see right through his problems just with her presence. He could almost feel the solution.

Of course, sometime things had to end. And now it was time for them to part ways. The two of them stood, facing each other, in front of Edgeworth's apartment building. Samara was smiling peacefully, looking up at Edgeworth with a knowing expression. "I guess this is goodbye, for now."

"I suppose it is…"

Standing outside the building, Samara leaned up and pressed her lips lightly to his. He was caught of guard by the gesture, but it didn't seem to put her off the slightest. "Miles. I hope you realise where you're headed soon. Because if you don't, you'll just end up miserable and alone. That's something no one wants to be." She turned and hailed a taxi, wrapping her coat tightly around her feminine figure. When one pulled up, she opened the door and turned for one last look at the man on the sidewalk. "Goodbye Mr Edgeworth. And good luck!"

Edgeworth walked back into the building, entering his apartment silently. She was right. He had to start making these decisions. It was right then he wrote his final letter, ready to be placed on his office desk the next morning.

He didn't think he'd ever see her again. And he never did. It was a shame really, he should have gotten the name of the bar she was going to open up. He found himself playing her words back in his head. _"I wish we had had the time to have gotten to know each other better. I would have liked to have known what was going on in that head of yours. You are known to be quite the intellectual."_

It not only applied to him, but now he was thinking the same thing about her.

Exaggeration is the only way to see the true path you must take.

"_Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death_."

**A/N: And that's a wrap! Did you enjoy it? I'd love to hear what you've got to say. I know it's a little bit random, but Samara is an OC of mine who has a very interesting past, and this is pretty much from where her written life started. Plus, I was having difficulty not entirely focusing on her, because she wasn't **_**meant **_**to be the main focus.**

**I think I failed. Oh well. :P**


End file.
